


What Jack Really Thinks of Those Photos

by RakishAngle (afterdinnerminx)



Series: Behind the Scenes One Shots (Prompts by Tumblr Re-Watch Discussion) [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterdinnerminx/pseuds/RakishAngle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moments just before and just after Phryne's last visit to the DI's office at the end of Season 1, Episode 3</p><p>***************************</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Jack Really Thinks of Those Photos

The folder in front of him contains four images of Miss Phryne Fisher that Constable Hugh Collins took while booking her for breaking and entering. It was late and DI Jack Robinson was alone in his office. As such, he allowed himself, in daydream, that perhaps he had been the photographer of eight, and not four, photos. 

He glowered at his overcoat hanging on the rack. He rushed out to get it cleaned once she pointed out that he hadn't done so yet. Catching him in the shower, no less. Unbelievable.

In his mind's eye, he studied images in front of him:

1\. The egyptian pose. Her side is to the camera, weight resting on one hip. One arm is raised above her head with her elbow slightly curving around her head. She had put on a seductive smile.

2\. She has raised a two-fingered gun to her lips as if she were blowing puffs of smoke across her fingertips.

3\. She is facing the camera and making peek-a-boo glasses with her fingers. The tendons in her neck taut as she purses her lips in a tight hard kiss.

4\. She is still facing the camera but she has entwined her arms across each other and caressing her cheek on one side and hair on the other with flat hands.

5\. She continues to face forward but is holding the hem of her shirt and camisole by her teeth, her midriff and under breast just visible.

6\. Her arms are both raised over her head, hands tangled in her twisted blouse and propped against the wall. The definition in her back accentuated by the black and white nature of the photo. Her face glancing over her shoulder with eyes peeking through her eyelashes.

7\. She has hooked her thumbs in her skirt and has begun the motion of sliding it down her legs. She is bent at a right angle with her side to the camera. Her nipples just visible behind the angle her arm makes with her shoulder. Her face half hidden by her hair.

8\. She has removed her tap pants and standing cross legged in only her stockings and suspenders. Her arm is behind her head, fingertips caressing her ear. The middle finger of her other stroking her breast.

He shouldn't be doing this.

But she started it.

He let his mind wander to form the beginnings of what would quickly become his favorite string of fantasies. 

Phryne swaggers into his office, unabashed, wearing only her suspenders, stockings and shoes. She is standing at his desk, stroking her belly with an amused look on her face.

He sits in his chair, pushes away from his desk, and leans back. 

She lowers her hand between her legs . Her wrist is rotating, indicating that she is twirling her fingers over and inside her most feminine anatomy. 

He watches this motion and then back up at her face.

She withdraws her hand and holds it toward to him. Her index finger pointed his way, runny and twinkling. "Try this snatch, Jack"

He rolls his head away in grimace and looks into her eyes again. "You aren't taking this seriously."

"I haven't taken anything seriously since 1918."

He considers her offering. His stomach contracted as a predication of his decision. He lurched forward, wrapping his lips around her finger and pulling the liquid back with him. He let her taste coat his tongue, rolling her essence around his mouth.

"Shouldn't you be clapping me in irons or something?"

He swallowed, content but still hungry. He shook his head. "Too much paperwork."

She sailed to the center of his desk and tilted her hips underneath her. She reached her hands back to wrap her fingers around the lip of the desk surface to support herself. Her knees raised to her chest and she leaned back onto her elbows while extending a heel of each foot to opposing walls of his office.

She looked at the file to the right of her next to the desk and re-engaged his eye contact. "If I feed you some more, may I see what's in that folder?"

He took a moment to appreciate the Hon. Lady Detective in a full spread eagle offering herself to him before...

The tell tale clacking of heels informed him that he should close the folder in front of him. Just in time. Here was the actual lady, hair wrapped in a gold turban and wearing some gold and black concoction that, while not the most attractive thing she wore, still underscored the graceful figure underneath it. 

"You summoned me, Inspector Robinson?" Her eyes teased as she thought he was the mouse to her cat and she was merely batting him about.

Two can play this game. "Yes." I am very much appreciating your cat-like qualities right now.

The inspector reached back behind him to grab a stack of black photo plates. "I found these plates underneath the floorboards of Leonard Stevens' apartment."

He has surprised her. "What would you like me to do with them?" Her voice in a slightly higher pitch than what he is used to hearing.

"Have them incinerated."

She smiled at him genuinely and sweetly. She was impressed. "I thought your hands were tied."

"Yes, but yours are not." Not yet. Wait a few hours. 

She held the plates close to her chest and sashayed out of his office, briefly looking back at him once in what he thought might be an appreciative glance.

It had been a long day. Perhaps her audacity was beginning to rub off on him? The DI rolled his eyes at himself. Rub off? Really? Dirty puns? 

He opened up the folder again and picked up one of the photos to ponder. The Police and Fireman's Ball had just begun. He could still go. He slid the photo into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and decided to go home instead.


End file.
